


Lipstick

by casual_distance



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anonymous Sex, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Makeup, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2016, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 05:10:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8388517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casual_distance/pseuds/casual_distance
Summary: The man’s lips are bright red, slick with wax and spit.  His blue eyes are dark with lust and they promise to make a mess of Dean in the very best way.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SPN Kink Bingo to fill the square “rimming”. [My card can be found on my tumblr.](http://casualstories.tumblr.com/kinkbingocard2016)
> 
> I had hoped to complete the card, but work got in the way. I have one more fic to post for the card. I had a few more started, but I won't get them completed in time. Boo.

Dean is so bored he’s gonna die. There's no way around it. He's going to die right here, in this club, surrounded by half-naked strangers. He's going to keel over on the nasty-ass floor. He's going to end up falling face-first in whatever is making his feet stick to the floor. 

Dean frowns and glances down at his boots. He shifts his feet and makes a face at the resistance he has to overcome for just that small movement. At least he can't hear it, he thinks with a shudder. 

A pair of black leather shoes stop in his line of sight, distracting Dean away from his thoughts of finding hand sanitizer. The frayed cuffs of dark jeans drag against the floor. Dean trails his eyes up the man’s legs to where the fabric of his pants stretches taut over thick thighs that make his mouth water. His eyes linger over the teasing swell of the man’s crotch, then pause at the sight of a leather belt peeking from between the tails of a vest. Dean swallows thickly, grateful that the loud, pulsing music masks the click of his throat.

The vest pulls tight over the man's chest, a red tie tucked into the opening. His shirt strains against the breadth of his shoulders. Dean's eyes track up the line of the man's throat to his face. He watches Dean, eyes sharp and focused. Dean stares into them until someone slams into him from behind, knocking him off balance.

The man catches Dean by the arms and drags him against his body. He's firm and hot and Dean shudders with pleasure, his fingers digging into the fabric of the man’s vest. This close, Dean can make out the blue of his eyes, the brightness of them exaggerated with the thick kohl that lines his eyelids.

"Careful," the man rumbles, his voice a low echo in the space between them.

Dean's eyes dip down to the man's lips. They're bright red, slick and shiny with lipstick. Dean sucks in a sharp breath, his lips parting. The corner of the man's lips curl up. His grip on Dean's arms tightens before he adjusts his hold to curl an arm around Dean's waist, keeping Dean trapped against his body. He dips his head closer and Dean's lips part further. 

He doesn't kiss Dean, though, shifting his face to the side just before they touch. His cheek brushes against Dean's, stubble catching on stubble.

"Do you like what you see?"

Dean sighs, fingers curling. "Yeah."

"You should follow me."

The man steps back, dragging his hands along Dean's body. He turns away and starts pushing through the crowds, trusting Dean to obey. They make their way to the back of the club, slipping past the lines of people waiting for the bathrooms. Dean loses sight of him around a turn. He hears the bang of a door slamming shut just before he turns the corner. At the end of the hall, an exit sign glows dimly, nearly burnt out. Dean glances around to make sure no one's watching before he pushes open the door to follow.

It's not much brighter out in the alleyway, but at least the street lights aren't flashing red and blue and green and yellow. Instead they burn a dirty orange and cast long shadows.

The man is waiting across the alleyway, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, leaning back against the brick wall. Dean steps close, eyes tracing over the man's features, cataloguing the straight line of his nose, the cock of his eyebrow, the cleft in his chin. He's stunning. 

Dean leans forward to kiss him.

He's stopped by a hand on his chest. Dean opens his eyes to find the man smiling at him. He taps his lower lip with the tip of a finger.

"Don't want to smear it," he says. "Not like that anyway."

Dean swallows. "Like what then?"

The man lifts his chin slightly. When he exhales his breath rushes across Dean's face. It smells like alcohol and makes Dean shiver.

"I suppose that's up to you." He drags his hand down Dean's chest. His fingers hook briefly into the waistband of Dean's pants before continue down to cover his cock. He massages Dean through his pants working him to full hardness, humming his approval when Dean rolls his hips into the touch.

"I could suck you off. Leave a ring of lipstick around the base of your cock for you to wash off in the shower when you get home."

Dean groans at the thought. The man chuckles.

"Or what?" Dean asks breathlessly.

The man wraps his other arm around Dean's waist, dips his hand down the back of Dean's pants to slip his fingers into Dean's crack.

"I can eat you out," he breathes into Dean's ear. “I can make you slick and wet and smear my lipstick all over your hole."

Dean swears, his hips jerking forward. The man laughs, deep and throaty. Before Dean can say anything, he spins them around, shoving Dean against the wall chest first. He presses Dean into it, his chest against Dean's back. His hands work Dean's pants open, pushing them down over his hips. He kneels behind Dean, shoving his knees between Dean's calves and forcing his feet into a wider stance. Dean braces himself against the wall, fingers digging into the brick in anticipation.

The man spreads his ass cheeks apart. He hums softly as he traces a finger over Dean's rim. Dean feels himself clench and then relax. 

"So pretty," he praises, making Dean groan.

The groan shifts into a ragged moan when the man leans forward and swipes his tongue over Dean's hole. Before Dean can even catch his breath, the man gets to work. He bits and sucks and licks. His tongue slips inside Dean and Dean moans. He rocks back against the man's face, crying out when the man bites him, then pulls back to order him to stay still. He slips fingers into Dean, working them in and out right next to his tongue, pulling on Dean's rim until Dean is whining with pleasure.

It's wet and sloppy and so, so good that Dean sobs with it. He moans in protest when the man pulls away, far too soon. He presses his thumb against Dean.

"Fuck, why are you stopping?" Dean hisses, twisting around to stare at the man.

He looks up at Dean, a single eyebrow raised, and Dean gapes, his mouth dangling open. The man's lipstick is smeared across his cheeks and chin, streaks of red that glisten with spit. He winks at Dean, then surges up Dean's body to kiss him. He slips a hand around Dean's body, wrapping his fist around Dean's cock before he presses Dean flat against the wall.

Dean had been too caught up in the man's lips and the man's hand to pay attention and it's a shock when the man's cock presses against his ass.

Dean jerks away with a gasp. "You gonna fuck me?" he grits out, rocking his hips back against him.

"Just like this," he says and thrusts against Dean. He slaps Dean's thigh until Dean closes his legs around the man’s cock. 

He doesn't move his hand, just thrust into the hot, wet space between Dean's thighs and behind his balls, his momentum pushing Dean's cock through his fingers. Dean drops his head back against the man's shoulder. He presses his cheek against the man's and it's only when he stills that Dean realizes it's too soft, too intimate for what they're doing. Before he can pull away, though, the man wraps his free arm around Dean's waist. He presses his hand flat to Dean's chest, fingers spread wide to hold him in place. He rubs his cheek against Dean's and then starts thrusting again.

Dean loses himself in it. Closes his eyes and takes in the slick feel of spit and lipstick between his ass cheeks, the heat and friction of the man's cock against him, the tightness of his hand around his cock. He twists his fingers into the man's hair and holds on, lets it wash through him until he's crying out, his back arching, his body singing as he comes over the man's fist onto the wall in front of them. The man groans and fucks against Dean harder, hips snapping sharply. 

Dean wishes desperately that the man was inside him. When he says it out loud, the man groans and bites down on Dean's shoulder. His hips grind against Dean's ass and he comes into the tight grip of Dean's thighs, his come smearing across Dean's balls. Dean shivers with the feel of it.

The man's weight bears him into the wall. He pants against Dean's neck. Eventually he sighs and shifts back. He stays close though; Dean can feel the heat of him. The man wipes his hand off on Dean's pants.

"Hey," Dean grouses, but he only gets a chuckle in return.

He pulls up Dean's pants, zipping and buttoning them with ease. His hands disappear and Dean hears the sound of a zipper. Dean turns, resting back against the wall. He takes in the man's appearance and laughs. His carefully disheveled hair is now a true mess, locks standing up at wild angles, clearly the result of desperate fingers. Dean reaches up to sooth them down. The man's eye makeup is fine, but the lower half of his face is a mess. Dean drags his thumb across the man's chin.

The man quirks a quick smile, then leans in to kiss Dean. Dean wraps his arms around his neck and holds him close, kissing back eagerly. He whines only a little when the man pulls away.

"I want to show you something," he says. He pulls out his phone and thumbs it on. Dean watches as he taps the screen a few times before he spins the phone to show Dean. It's a close-up of Dean's ass, his cheeks spread, his hole gaping open. The flash reflects off the shine of spit and highlights the red smears of lipstick on Dean's skin and his rim. Dean's hole clenches as he stares.

"Fuck," he breathes. He looks up at the man. His eyes have gone dark with hunger again. Dean grabs his vest and hauls him closer. "You're coming home with me."

The man chuckles. "I was hoping you'd say that."


End file.
